


truces pt. 2

by millimallow



Series: the world of owa [25]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Casual Drug Use, Gen, Political conflict, lots of introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 11:51:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18281963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millimallow/pseuds/millimallow
Summary: a branch grows across.





	truces pt. 2

“what’re you up to?”

the first time i hear the voice, i resign myself for death.

i know how things work around here. you’re either lucky or you’re not- even if most of the time you’re lucky the potential always remains. that you’ll be shot by some passing guards and left for dead by the thick wire fences that tear through the vegetation. bleeding out, the colour of your insides equivalent to the red of rich and fertile flowers nearby. but you have to put these things out of your mind. the way things also work here, as i was recently informed, is the way in which thruckbush grows untrimmed by the foreboding fences constructed to warn civilians away from the land border. it makes an unfortunate amount of sense- after all, border patrol has better things to do than garden and prune a pretty peace garden. like riddling my shitty body with bullets.

“i-i’m lost.” this is the answer i told myself to give in case i was discovered. while improbable, it did make me sound sympathetically helpless in the face of danger, especially when i whimpered it. and i whimper like a dog caught in a trap at that moment, otherwise frozen in fear.

“come on.” i catch the foreign accent in the words and my heart beats fast and loud. “all you have to do to leave is walk west.” it occurs to me that whoever this is, they’re right, and that i’ve been making a fool out of myself.

“well… i’m not very smart.”

“and boy, it shows. you should know that i’m not going to hurt you, though i don’t suppose there’s much i can do to convince you of that.”

“just don’t hurt me.” i’m still whimpering, unsure whether i’m even choosing to do it.

“you’re here for the thruckbush too, right?” the voice says, and i nod before wondering whether this other person can even see me. but the noise of satisfaction they make at my answer tells me they can, leaving me to feel rather exposed at being unable to see them back. “figures. i don’t think there’s another reason on owa to come here.” i’m curious about something they said before, too curious to really remark on that.

“you take thruckbush as well? over the border, i mean.”

“yeah. it’s native to the whole island system, actually, aside from southern heresk.” the mention of heresk surprises me- i know that at home mentions of the place are sparse and kept to a minimum, under the allegation that our southern neighbours don’t take kindly to us. “who wouldn’t want to use thruckbush?”

“i don’t, actually.” the little voice calling out for me to lie gets ignored and silenced once more. “j-just, i’m just here for my friends.”

“can’t your friends get their own fuckin’ thruckbush?”

“well.” i gulp, still terrified of this stranger and the situation i’m in. “their plants were burnt yesterday. we got caught.”

“they actually burn the stuff for you guys? here the militia just takes it and pretends they’ve destroyed it.”

“mhm. huge fire.” i decide it’s unwise to tell the voice that i found it quite beautiful, actually. “more and more crackdowns lately.”

“that’s rough. can’t they buy some more, though? instead of sending some poor kid to fetch it for them.”

“apparently the stuff around here is much purer than city plants.”

“they’re right, even if you shouldn’t be messing with it. around the cities there’s too much pollution and waste. so while the stuff gets more hallucinogenic, it also gets more poisonous and impure. the real good stuff- the best high- you’ve found it.” he means it literally, judging from my position only a few inches away from some strong and fleshy plants bearing the signature ripe chartreuse colour. when i look at them, i can see the darkness of the soil below and the health of the roots, unlike the way in which city plants would wilt and ache under their own weight frequently.

“good to know.” we observe a moment of silence as one of the large native birds calls out for its mate, giving me a second to think of a question. “so… if you don’t mind me asking, where are you?”

“what does that mean?”

“i know that you can see me” i emphasize, “but i can’t see you. and that feels a little strange.” suddenly, there’s some rustling above me, and i turn my eyes to the sky. it’s blotted out mostly by the leaves and branches of trees, but i can tell that something is moving amongst them.

“i won’t show you where exactly. but i’m up here, at the top of the trees.”

“wait.” i pause and take in a breath. “you’re on my side of the border?”

“borders aren’t real. but i suppose i am.” the casual, carefree nature of how they approach the topic stuns me.

“…how is that possible?” more branches rustle and a few leaves fall down onto my head.

“because a tree grows across the fences. and i can climb like a starving monkey. i’ll go back to my home soon, though.” knowing that i’m being seen from above, i do my best to wave and smile politely. though i know our nations are at conflict, the instinct to treat this stranger as a guest still strikes me with a strange and confusing power.

“if you fell, you’d never make it back. and you’d die.”

“it’s not that much of a fall, not for me. not if you’re prepared.”

“someone over here would kill you.” i correct myself.

“at least you’re not up for it, hm?”

we’re silent again.

“i should- i have to find the thruckbush. um. it’s been nice to meet you.” a thousand thoughts swim in my head, but i can’t externalize any of them, nor can i begin to ask my thousand more questions. so i do my best to send this stranger off kindly.

“nice to meet you too, edenskum.” and even though i know the last part is supposed to hurt my people, it doesn’t when it’s being said as laughter.


End file.
